I got no car and it's breakin' my heart
But I got a driver and that's a start
Let's see.
What should we discuss?
My day?
O.K.
We have coffee on a timer, and it goes off at 6:00 a.m.
(That's a.m., from the Latin ante meridiam, which refers to the period between midnight and noon.)
The coffee went off, and I slept for another hour and eighteen minutes.
((How 'bout the Duder layin' a little Latin on you? I took Latin for two years. It's a dead language, but it does wonders for your S.A.T. scores.))
The coffee was still hot.
(((So does being smart. And white.)))
I know this because Stanette, God Bless Her Heart, brought a cup of coffee and a smoothie - yogurt, banana, strawberry, milk, ice, whey protein and love- and set them on the nightstand next to my head.
The coffee was hot and black, the smoothie was cold and ... pink.
((((What? Like you didn't know those tests are biased?!
Two trains depart at the same time. Each has to travel 160 miles to its destination. Train A travels at 40 miles per hour, but has to make six stops, each for ten minutes. Train B travels at 35 miles per hour, but has to make five stops, each for 8 minutes and 45 seconds.
Which train gets there first?
White Guy: "Hmmmm, well, 160 divided by 40... minus 60..."
Black Guy: "Bitch better have my money when she get off this train, yo."
See.
Biased.))))
After that, I went to work, read some stuff, did some other stuff, had a phone interview for a job opportunity with a company in Jersey [I wouldn't have to leave Bozeman... so they say], went to the gym, went home, fed Doodlebug, put away the dishes, ran off to my guitar lesson -- we worked on "Drive My Car"
I was learning the little leads in the song. We spent about 20 minutes jamming on that song. It's a good one --
Then, I walked down to Ale Works and met Stanette, and a bunch of friends. It was some kind of yoga party. These chicks had all just completed a 60 day bikram yoga challenge, something like 6 days a week for 60 days.
Bikram is the kind of yoga they do in a room heated to 104 degrees.
Fuckin' freaks.
Hung out there for a while, came home, listened to the new Stones/Scorcese "Shine A Light."
((((((Absolutely Awesome. They do, "Loving Cup" with Jack White, and even better is Christrina Aguilera singing, "Live With Me."))))))
Now I am typing this.
Here is how this is going to work:
There will only be a few posts you will be able to see when you load this page;
You will not be able to see the archives;
You can comment and it gets sent to my email;
You do not talk about Fight Club;
You DO NOT talk about Fight Club;
If someone says, "stop," or goes limp, taps out ... the fight is over;
Only two guys to a fight;
No shirt, no shoes;
Fights will go on as long as they have to;
If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.
What should we discuss?
My day?
O.K.
We have coffee on a timer, and it goes off at 6:00 a.m.
(That's a.m., from the Latin ante meridiam, which refers to the period between midnight and noon.)
The coffee went off, and I slept for another hour and eighteen minutes.
((How 'bout the Duder layin' a little Latin on you? I took Latin for two years. It's a dead language, but it does wonders for your S.A.T. scores.))
The coffee was still hot.
(((So does being smart. And white.)))
I know this because Stanette, God Bless Her Heart, brought a cup of coffee and a smoothie - yogurt, banana, strawberry, milk, ice, whey protein and love- and set them on the nightstand next to my head.
The coffee was hot and black, the smoothie was cold and ... pink.
((((What? Like you didn't know those tests are biased?!
Two trains depart at the same time. Each has to travel 160 miles to its destination. Train A travels at 40 miles per hour, but has to make six stops, each for ten minutes. Train B travels at 35 miles per hour, but has to make five stops, each for 8 minutes and 45 seconds.
Which train gets there first?
White Guy: "Hmmmm, well, 160 divided by 40... minus 60..."
Black Guy: "Bitch better have my money when she get off this train, yo."
See.
Biased.))))
After that, I went to work, read some stuff, did some other stuff, had a phone interview for a job opportunity with a company in Jersey [I wouldn't have to leave Bozeman... so they say], went to the gym, went home, fed Doodlebug, put away the dishes, ran off to my guitar lesson -- we worked on "Drive My Car"
I was learning the little leads in the song. We spent about 20 minutes jamming on that song. It's a good one --
Then, I walked down to Ale Works and met Stanette, and a bunch of friends. It was some kind of yoga party. These chicks had all just completed a 60 day bikram yoga challenge, something like 6 days a week for 60 days.
Bikram is the kind of yoga they do in a room heated to 104 degrees.
Fuckin' freaks.
Hung out there for a while, came home, listened to the new Stones/Scorcese "Shine A Light."
((((((Absolutely Awesome. They do, "Loving Cup" with Jack White, and even better is Christrina Aguilera singing, "Live With Me."))))))
Now I am typing this.
Here is how this is going to work:
There will only be a few posts you will be able to see when you load this page;
You will not be able to see the archives;
You can comment and it gets sent to my email;
You do not talk about Fight Club;
You DO NOT talk about Fight Club;
If someone says, "stop," or goes limp, taps out ... the fight is over;
Only two guys to a fight;
No shirt, no shoes;
Fights will go on as long as they have to;
If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.
Labels: His name was Robert Paulson
posted by Joe at
10:55 PM
5 Comments:
Cool, I was wondering what a.m. stood for, I just never got off my lazy ass to look it up.
Glad you've returned, Mr. Whoeveryouare. :)
What kind of grief did the previous, more public blog bring you? I'm sure it wasn't easy, on several different levels, posting pictures of yourself with someone new in your life but outside of that I'm curious as to what kind of bullshit you experienced that ultimately caused you to close shop for a while.
*F* Fight Club. Dude, if you aren't throwing down with Weevils, you're not a man.
Georges St.Pierre wants his UFC middleweight title back from Matt Sherer on April 19 in Toronto.
The current 'best athlete inside the Octagon' got his clock cleaned by Sherer the last time.
They say once you get hit in the face, the best laid plans of mice and men go out the window until your head clears up.
Glad to see you are posting again. I thought it was sad that after this blog spawned from you thumbing your nose at "the man", it was the threat of "the man" reading the posts that shut it down.
Great stuff.
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